


Pranks with a Purpose

by tinta_roja



Category: Cobra Starship
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-08
Updated: 2008-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:19:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinta_roja/pseuds/tinta_roja





	Pranks with a Purpose

It’s the last day of Warped, and if Gabe has done his calculations correctly, he has exactly one outfit that isn’t sweaty beyond all possible decency. Last night, he had laid it out with great care at the foot of his bunk, but now, when he sits up, wearing his last pair of boxers and nothing else, his clothes are gone.

“What the fuck?” His voice echoes off the too-close walls of the bus.

“Hey, guys,” Victoria’s voice drifts back to him from the front lounge, “Gabe’s finally up.”

“Buenos días, La Hoya.” Victoria giggles; she still loves to hear him call her that.

Gabe crawls out of his bunk, careful not to smack his long limbs on anything. Still wearing nothing but his boxers, he goes in search of his clothes.

He doesn’t have to go far. Victoria meets him in the tiny corridor between the bunks and the lounge. It takes him a minute to realize why she looks so different. She’s wearing his yellow and black plaid shirt, the very same one he had so carefully folded last night.

“Have I ever mentioned that you have great taste in shirts?” she fiddles with one of the top buttons, and it’s then that Gabe realizes she’s not wearing much of anything underneath it. There’s enough of a height difference between them that his shirt covers her decently, but he can’t help but notice her bare, gorgeously pale legs. Her hair is falling out of its messy bun, and her cheeks are flushed. She couldn’t be much more gorgeous, except if she were laid out before him (on a real bed, God yes) with his shirt lying crumpled in the corner. He licks his lips.

“That’s my last clean shirt, V, what am I gonna wear for the show? Here, give it.” He reaches, and she lets him, smirking as his fingers brush over her nipples through the material. She’s not even wearing a bra. “Fuck, sorry—“

“Don’t be,” Ryland fucking waltzes in to stand with an arm around Victoria, and it’s then that he thinks that maybe they planned this, because he’s wearing Gabe’s pants, the tight purple ones that Gabe doesn’t want to admit look better on Ryland’s long, skinny legs than his own. Problem number one is that he’s not wearing anything else. His chest is pale, with a generous dusting of brown hair. His confident smirk gets to Gabe, as he runs a hand down his chest to rest on his hip. “Did I mention you have great taste pants?”

Gabe swallows, “All right, the game’s up, give me my shit back, Mr. Pleasure Fucking Ryland.” Ryland just laughs, turns around slightly (damn, his ass looks great in Gabe’s pants) and calls out, “Guys, you heard him, come out and give Gabanti his shit back.”

There’s not much maneuvering room left in the hall, so Gabe can’t really see Nate from where he’s standing, but he can make out his bright green Yankees’ cap over Nate’s hair, and the golden glitter of his Justin Timberlake necklace, and a flash of bare, toned chest.

“Damn, Nasty Nate really is nasty.” Gabe is losing control of this situation much more quickly than he would have liked. What he says next comes out sounding fast, panicked, almost desperate. Come on, Saporta, stay cool. “So, haha, you got me, I been pranked, I get it, it’s the end of the tour, but seriously, can I get my shit back?”

And then Alex pushes his way through the others. He stands behind Ryland, hooking his leg around Ryland’s and sticking out his foot to show off Gabe’s black-and-white Nikes, the ones with the bright purple laces. From what Gabe can see, he’s not wearing much else.

“Hah, Suavez, real funny prank.” But Gabe’s not laughing. Mostly he’s thinking, How the fuck did I wind up with these idiots in my band? Also, how did I go so long without realizing how hot they all are?

“It's not just a prank, Gabanti. The Cobras never just prank.” Alex smirks, his hair falling in his face as he kisses Ryland’s neck, “If you want your shit back, you’re gonna have to come and get it.”


End file.
